I Am Thou, Thou Art I
by complacentCatalyst
Summary: ["Uncle, it's me," you tell him, patting a hand to your chest. With horror, you see that it is not your hand that you just moved. The fingers are too long and you never let your knuckles get this chapped. You are wearing a black suit and the red tie around your neck is crooked. For some reason, you're in detective Adachi's body...] Bodyswap fic. No shipping to be found.


"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

A sharp, scolding voice pulls you out of the peaceful nap you didn't know you were taking. One minute you were in your room studying, and now you're… That was your uncle's voice. He never comes into your room. This must be important.

From your uncomfortable slump over the tabletop you sit up, ready to leap into action if need be. Maybe something is wrong with Nanako? When you are finally aware, it registers that this is not your bedroom. This must be Dojima's office at the police station. The clock on the wall reads close to midnight. Yeah, something strange is going on.

"And here I thought you might actually get some work done. Do you _like_ pulling all-nighters?" Dojima huffs and tosses his jacket over the back of the chair at his desk. Most of your time spent at home goes into schoolwork, so why is he this angry? How did you even get here? He stares at you, apparently waiting for an answer. You give him a very confused look and then you glance around the office for clues; Nanako isn't here so she must be okay. Annoyed, Dojima narrows his eyes at you and snaps, "I was finally going to be home before two A.M. Come on, give me the files."

He holds his hand out and your gaze falls to a stack of papers and manila envelopes that are strewn across the desk that your head previously rested on. There is a glossy drool spot on one of the folders. Still perplexed, you gather them up and hand them over. "Why am I here?" you ask. Your voice comes out strange and light. That doesn't sound like you at all…

"Hell if I know, Adachi." he grumbles as he begins to sort through files. He shoots a dark look your way when he sees the drool.

There is something very wrong happening here. He just mistook you for his goofy partner.

"Uncle, it's me," you tell him, patting a hand to your chest. With horror, you see that it is not your hand that you just moved. The fingers are too long and you never let your knuckles get this chapped. You are wearing a black suit and the red tie around your neck is crooked. For some reason, you're in detective Adachi's body... Dojima is scowling at you. He must really dislike this guy.

He looks back down at his work. "Quit playing around. Put these in the safe." You don't know if you should try to convince him of your predicament or go along with whatever freaky spell this is. He thinks you're Adachi and Adachi is acting like an idiot. It doesn't help that you don't know the combination to that safe at the other end of his L-shaped desk. You pick up the files that he doesn't need and walk over to the safe. A long moment is spent staring at the lock. The last thing you want to do is piss him off by being even more clueless, but there's nothing else you can do. You clear your throat and ask warily, "What's the combination again?"

Almost immediately, your instincts tell you to flinch, and then there is a blunt pain on the back of your head as Dojima's hand collides with your skull to reprimand you. "Damn it, Adachi! What's wrong with you today? You open that thing almost every day. It's twelve-seven-nine," he grumbles. With this knowledge you open the safe and put away the files. You hardly realized you were gritting your teeth. It's not as if you think any worse of your uncle for hitting you - he doesn't know it's you - but for reasons unknown it takes a lot of effort not to retaliate. That's… strange. You usually try to avoid confrontation.

Time at the station passes by until it's almost one in the morning. Most of it was spent watching your uncle work since you were obviously incapable. He is understandably pissed off. The drive home is tense and quiet. Dojima takes a wrong turn, then another, then one more, and it occurs to you that he is probably taking you to Adachi's house because right now you are not his nephew. You don't know this neighborhood very well - you never have a reason to come here - and being alone in an acquaintance's house is perhaps the most uncomfortable thing you can think of. Does it count as trespassing? Would it be too weird to ask if you could sleep on the couch at the Dojimas? By the time you consider doing just that, he has stopped the car in front of a small, modest apartment complex. You hesitate to get out. Sparing him a cautious glance, he barks an order of, "Sleep well because you're not going to slack tomorrow," and you take that as the cue to go because you don't want to make things worse for poor Adachi. The car doesn't drive away until you have opened the front door of the building. With horror, it dawns on you that you don't even know Adachi's apartment number. When you ask the attendant which one is yours, she snickers at you, tells you and detective Dojima to lay off the sake, and directs you to "your" apartment. It's not flashy. It's about as unorganized as you would expect from someone like Adachi; a mug sits on the kitchen counter with about a fourth of a cup of room temperature tea left in it, a pair of faded white sneakers have been left by the door, and a zip-up jacket hugs the arm of the straw-yellow sofa. You leave the apartment key on the counter next to the mug and decide that, while it's really awkward, you're tired and if you're Adachi then technically the bedroom is yours to sleep in. Maybe you'll wake up in the morning in your own body. This is just an unsettlingly vivid dream.

When you open the bedroom door, your heart drops to your stomach.

You've seen this room before. In the television. The wood-frame bed with the plush white comforter in the far left corner, the sliding closet doors next to the entrance, the retro blue mini-fridge next to the wide window. The ominous bedroom from the TV world is Adachi's bedroom. There is only one poster of Misuzu Hiiragi on the wall opposite the window and it isn't torn, but it may as well be evidence. You haven't seen him on the Midnight Channel at all - sometimes he even gives you and your friends nudges in the right direction - but… could he have been the culprit all along? The only things missing are the hanging rope and the chair under it that were in the TV world. It's one in the morning and your friends are probably asleep, but this is too important. You need a phone.

After some searching, you find a white wireless phone attached to its port on the wall in the living room. The first person you call is Naoto - they'll know what to do. When they answer, they sound drowsy and thoroughly confused.

"Hello?"

"Naoto. It's Adachi. It's… me," you correct yourself. This is going to be confusing. There is a second of silence.

"Is there something I can help you with, Adachi-san?" Naoto asks. There is shuffling from their end, probably sitting up and ready to jump into detective mode.

"Listen carefully. It's Yu. I'm trying to to tell you that I- Adachi- I think he's the culprit."

There's a crackling sound as Naoto sighs into the receiver. "Is it _you_, or is it _me_? I'm afraid this is something I can't decipher. Please don't delude yourself, Adachi-san. This case isn't something to play around with. And you may want to lay off the sake," they add with a hint of aggravation. This is working out about as badly as you expected. "I would also like to know how you got my personal cell number."

"I already knew it. This is Yu Narukami." you say, trying to keep your frustration in check. Naoto sighs again, bids you a gruff "Goodnight," and hangs up. There goes the most level-headed of your friends. For the record, you didn't explain yourself very well.

You decide to call Yosuke instead. He's determined to crack the case, and if you can get through to him, he'll be able to tell everyone else what's up. He's the first friend you made here - if he can't help, no one can.

As you listen to the dial tone, you try to get your thoughts in order. There has to be a way to explain this that won't confuse him too much. When he finally picks up, he drawls, "Thanks for calling Junes Department Store... Yosuke speaking… How can I direct your call…?"

He is definitely still half-asleep. "Yosuke, this is Yu Narukami," you say clearly, "and I need your help. Please don't hang up. I'm not drunk."

"Uh, this doesn't sound like… Wait a second, is this _officer Tohru_? No offense sir, but you're bad at impressions. Don't call me this late. Or like, ever again. Kinda freaky that you have my number."

"Listen to me," you say sharply, and you're surprised by how harsh it sounds. You didn't mean to snap. Something is off - you don't have a temper this bad. You hardly have a temper at all. You take a deep breath to steady whatever the hell your emotions are doing, and then you speak again. "I'm Narukami. If I wasn't, I wouldn't know you have three pairs of identical headphones, and that the first time I met you was when you were in the garbage. You had a hard time making real friendships since moving to Inaba, and you were worried that opening Junes would cause people to hate you."

Yosuke hums and it sounds like he is considering your words. "Okay. That's scary accurate… I'm listening. What's up, uh, dude? This better be important."

Good enough. At least you have his attention. It takes you a minute to describe the events of the night to him. The whole time he stays quiet, but when you tell him about Adachi's bedroom, he suddenly sounds wide awake.

"What? Are you positive? That gives us a new lead, but it's not much to go on," he muses. "We need solid evidence. For all we know, he could be another victim."

"We would have seen him on the Midnight Channel. There's even one of those posters in his room. Think about it - he always shows up when we're talking about the case. It sounds like he's blabbing about nothing, but he always gets the right details. We've been played the whole time."

"Oh, man…" Yosuke breathes. "Can he go in the TV?"

"Let's find out." You switch the phone to your other hand and walk over to the television stand in front of the couch. Reaching for it, your fingertips merge with the screen and make a ripple effect across the surface. When your hand is in the television up to the wrist, you are convinced.

"Yes," is all you say when you hold the phone up again. Yosuke utters a muffled curse and says, "This is big. We might be able to solve the case. He was so dopey, I never would have suspected him. If he's really the one who killed Saki-senpai… That means he tried to kill everyone else too!"

Then he's quiet. Slowly, he inquires, "So if you're that guy right now… Who was I texting earlier?"

It was around twelve o'clock when you first checked the time at your uncle's office. You tell Yosuke this and he curses again.

"I was talking about chicks with _Adachi_," he groans. The thought is so disturbing that it even sends a shiver down your spine. Does that mean Adachi is trying to act like you? In your body, he already has the trust of the whole investigation team. The phone call to Naoto will make them suspicious not of him, but of you, which they'll think is actually him. This is disastrous. You can't do anything in this situation. Frustrated, you tap your fingers against the phone.

"We have to meet up somehow. All of us. Find a way to expose him."

"That's dangerous! He's going to know that you were in his house," Yosuke protests.

"He'll get away with everything if we don't do something," you reply, "and he might know how to switch us back. What if this is related to his plans?"

Yosuke huffs, "Alright. But if he tries anything, I'm gonna kick his ass. Or your ass? An ass will be kicked and I'll make sure it doesn't hurt you too much."

Good old Yosuke; you can't help grinning. "I'll look around the apartment more. Tell everyone to meet at Junes tomorrow, like we usually do." There is a response of "Sure thing, partner!" from the other end, then Yosuke hangs up, and you're alone in Adachi's apartment again. An inauspicious feeling lingers at the back of your mind, along with something else that you can't quite put your finger on. Hopefully it won't keep you up all night. You're tired from being utterly useless at the police office.


End file.
